


His one weakness

by Starryeyedrichie



Category: The New Statesman (TV 1987)
Genre: Attempted Murder, Dry Humping, F/M, Grinding, Knifeplay, Premature Ejaculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 15:12:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18875719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starryeyedrichie/pseuds/Starryeyedrichie
Summary: An attempted murder goes Horribly Wrong™️





	His one weakness

**Author's Note:**

> what have I brought upon this cursed land  
> (this is very short, I think we all know why)

Today was the day. Alan had been planning this for weeks. In less than an hour, he would be rid of the primary source of misery in his life. He could hardly contain his excitement as he strode silently across the room, clutching a razor-sharp knife in his gloved hands. He could see her now as he came closer. Sarah was standing at their table, sorting through the contents of one of her disgustingly expensive designer handbags which had undoubtedly been bought on his credit card. Alan was right behind her now and still hadn’t been noticed. This was it. 

Within seconds, Sarah had been pinned down on the table, with one of Alan’s hands holding her wrists to her back and the other pressing the pointed, silver blade against her slender throat. Thinking quickly, she raised her leg behind her and used it to spread Alan’s further apart. She gave a sultry chuckle. Alan gulped. In the 12 years they had been married, he had come to learn that that chuckle meant one thing; he was done for. 

Damn. This wasn’t going to plan at all, and the sly vixen in front of him knew this. She angled her hips up against her husband, pushing her rump into his crotch. Alan could feel the surplus of blood rushing into his face, as well as somewhere else. 

“Please, not now.” he thought to himself as his nymphomaniac of a wife began to slowly grind herself against his fully erect member. He was sweating buckets. 

Alan could feel himself getting close already. He began desperately bucking against Sarah. He knew it made him seem like a pathetic slut, but in the moment he really didn’t care. All he wanted was sweet release. He couldn’t hold back any longer. The most pitiful whimper escaped his throat as his hot sticky load oozed down his thighs and his vision went white. When Alan could see again, he realised that he’d collapsed on the floor. The knife had been stabbed into the carpet next to him. 

Sarah was leaving the house. As she closed the door behind her, she said, with the smuggest tone humanly possible;

“Nice try, darling.”


End file.
